Get The Girl [h.s] AU

21

Loud sounds of objects being tossed or moved as well as the crushing sound of thunder is what wakes me up. When I roll over and check the time it was 3:15 am. I saw no point in going back to sleep, not that I could anyway since it took me tossing and turning for about an hour to fall asleep, I can't imagine how hard it'll be to try again. I walked towards the door, hoping that it wasn't locked and when I turn the knob, I am relieved to find that it isn't.

As I looked around the dark hallway of the bedrooms and the staircase, I noticed the light flicker inside Harry's bedroom from the gap under the door. The rain and the thunder made the walk in the dark scary than it already was to begin with. When I reached his door, I stood behind it debating wether or not I should go in since I knew nothing good would come of it. But he was in there making so much noise I was surprised no one else was awake.

I knocked and the noise stopped before soon, heavy footsteps walked slowly towards the door. The light on the other end allowed me to see his shadow under the door. He unlocked it and walked away. I stand behind the door, gathering enough courage to open it. I decide to go in disregarding my subconscious when it tells me to just go back to my room and force myself to sleep, but I found myself disobeying it.

I looked around, noticing boxes were messily scattered all over the floor, they appeared to have been beaten in some ripped. I looked to the couch, his bare back hunched over, probably propping himself on his knees. He was shirtless and in only a pair of black jeans when I approached him. "Harry?" I softly whisper, just so he would hear me but low enough where he wouldn't notice me call his name.

"What is it?" He asks, not looking at me but at the wall in front of him, almost in a trance.

"Are you okay?" I ask, sitting on the couch next to him, propping my legs underneath me. "Why are you awake?"

"I couldn't sleep." He says calmly. When he turns his face to me, I am able to see slight bags under his eyes, his clasped hands had scabs on his knuckles and they were bruised. As I saw them, I reached for them making him lean away and grab my bruised wrist from our earlier argument instead and I wince. When he notices my gesture, his fingers go over the marks gently which made me stare at him in confusion and awe.

I think messing with my head gave him satisfaction.

"Does it hurt?" He asks matching his fingers with the marks and when I don't answer he looks up at me, my eyes searching his face for any sign of emotion but I found none as he gave a cold look. He looks down to my lips, noticing the scab from when we jumped out of the window. His hand goes up to my cheek, placing his thumb over my busted bottom lip and pushing it down and letting go. "Are you afraid?" He asks darkly.

"No." I lie. I was terrified of this man. Nobody else scared me as much as he did when he was angry. Especially since he's pointed a gun at me, my life is literally in his hands.

"You're lying." He says, his eyes flashing with darkness and I question myself if I was dreaming, I would like to wake up now.

"You terrify me," I admit, seeing no point in lying after see saw through me. "Knowing you, anyone would be scared."

"You don't know me."

"I know that there isn't a limit to your anger. You carry a gun with you twenty-four seven. You're not necessarily a walk in the park."

"Neither are you." He retorts. "There's something to you that I can't quite point my finger to. You elude innocence but I know there's something else there that you don't want anyone to see." I look at him, confused at what he's trying to say. "Something you're ashamed of."

"I'm not hiding anything." I furrow my eyebrows, what was he trying to get at?

"You know, it's funny. I can't stop thinking about that guy in the alley," My mind goes back to San Francisco, the way I escaped and was found in an alley. The man comes to mind. "The way you bashed his head in like nothing."

"I was protecting myself." I defend, "Was I just supposed to let myself get raped?"

Harry shakes his head. "You may be able to fool yourself, but you can't fool me. I know that rage all too well."

"So what you're saying is, I'm a shitty person like you are?" I cross my arms.

"Who knows." Harry says nonchalantly yet something told me he knows more than what he's letting on. After a while of silence and loud thunder, he takes a deep sigh, looking up at the ceiling. "What was the real reason you're here? Zayn didn't have condoms to use?"

"What's your deal with him? Why does he bother you so much?"

He shakes his head. "It's nothing personal." He says, his fingers tapping the beer bottle.

"That's not how it looks like."

"He's just—he's intervening, that's all."

"To what?" I raise my brow.

"For fucks sake, you don't have to know everything!" He was now annoyed. "Just stop being so fucking nosey for once." I roll my eyes.

"You said you would try to be nice." I remind him. "You're not exactly going through with it."

"How can I when you get on my nerves all the damn time?"

"Oh please, you get annoyed about everything. There's no telling what'll trigger you or not."

"There you go being defensive and shit." He says, cracking his knuckles.

"I am not defensive." I say making him raise his eyebrows at me as in to saying; See? "Well maybe I am a little. But that's only because you get on my nerves too." I say and it was true. I never had anyone irk me and get under my skin as much as he did.

"You know for two people who can't stand each other, we have one thing in common." He says, turning to me making me look away. "We sure do know how to get on each other's nerves."

I nod. He was right. For the first time he was and I didn't bother to say anything else. We sort of just sat there, listening to the way the hard rain fell onto the roof followed by the sound of thunder. I always loved thunderstorms, Mexico was always so dry and hot but when it rained it was like no other. I would often lay my blanket on the floor by my window and fall asleep to the sounds of the rain hitting the window.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I finally blurt out after listening to the rain. Harry turns to me, his eyebrows still furrowed. He did that a lot. "Is it because there's something wrong with me?"

He looks confused as he answers. "I don't hate you," he says. "And there's nothing wrong with you."

I look at him in question. "So then?"

"I don't know." He shrugs with a sigh, looking off anywhere but at me. "You're just so alive."